


Jigsaw

by TheFreakWithTheWings



Series: Further Tumblr prompts [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Kinda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-09 04:23:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15259380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFreakWithTheWings/pseuds/TheFreakWithTheWings
Summary: Three pieces of a puzzle





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Obi-Wan loses his stuff all the time.

The Coruscant weather was set to be clear, hot, and sunny. To the younglings, who were practicing their meditation in the Room of a Thousand Fountains and practically _baking_ in the heat, this was a _travesty_. (They had just learned that word a few days ago and were enamored with it.) Sunlight glinted enticingly off the surface of the water as it cascaded through the fountains and pools. Surely, no one would mind if they took over just one…

 

Bant Eerin was the first one to break. She was normally a sweet little girl who followed the rules, but she was just not meant to sit out in the sun in heavy robes all day. Quick as a flash, she shucked all her robes but her underwear and jumped into the nearest fountain.

 

The younglings closest to the splash zone shrieked when they got soaked.

 

“Come on in, everyone; it feels great!” Bant yelled.

 

Obi-Wan glanced around, afraid one of the Knights or Masters would come over and yell at them, but no one seemed to care. Seeing as their wasn’t going to be any repercussions, he peeled off his clothes, dumped them in a pile, and joined his classmates in the water. After sitting under the hot sun for so long, splashing about in the fountain with his classmates was a bliss.

 

By the time the minder came to chivvy them in for dinner, any youngling with exposed skin was bright red. They grabbed their clothes and followed the minder as he redirected them to the showers.

 

“Obi-Wan, wait!” Garen called.

 

Obi-Wan turned.

 

“You forgot your pants,” said Garen, throwing the pants towards Obi-Wan.

 

Obi-Wan caught them before they could hit his face. “Thanks, Garen.”

 

Garen laughed. “Just remember to grab them next time, otherwise I might keep ‘em.”

 

0o0o0

 

For what felt like the fifth time that hour, Obi-Wan checked his padd to see if the Council had responded. Still nothing. He and Master Qui-Gon were _stuck_ here with the infuriating Mandalorian duchess, being hunted by all manner of degenerate criminals, and the Council _still_ hadn’t gotten back to them. Had he been an iota less of a proper Jedi, Obi-Wan might have thrown the padd across the safe house, or banged his head against the wall until he knocked himself out, or maybe just screamed himself hoarse with frustration. But he had to be the respectable Jedi to Master Qui-Gon’s maverick in order to keep the Council happy, so he just turned off the padd to the side with a sigh.

 

Satine burst into his room, bringing with her the faint sound of blaster bolts splattering against stone. “They’ve found us!”

 

Obi-Wan cursed under his breath and dropped the padd in exchange for his lightsaber. “Go get the speeder started while I distract them. Master Qui-Gon should be back soon.”

 

Satine nodded and ran for the garage while Obi-Wan followed his ears to the latest set of bounty hunters to track them down. They hadn’t bothered to unpack anything other than food, so Obi-Wan was able to get out without tripping over any obstacles, managing to take the first bounty hunter by surprise and shopping off his blaster arm.

 

The other two bounty hunters, alerted by their comrade’s misfortune, took to the skies in their jetpacks and began to rain blaster fire on him from above. Obi-Wan fell into a pattern of dodging and deflecting their shots, one with the Force.

 

As she was prone to, Satine disrupted his concentration - this time by running over the man Obi-Wan had disarmed and pulling him into the speeder.

 

“What did you do that for?” Obi-Wan asked as he reoriented himself in order to keep deflecting. “I already cut off his arm.”

 

“Mandalorian warrior are trained to be ambidextrous.”

 

Before Obi-Wan could use his perfectly good retort, Master Qui-Gon cut in - literally. He threw his lightsaber so that it sliced through the bounty hunters’ jetpacks in just the right place to overload the power, leading to an explosive reaction. He then recalled his lightsaber with the Force and neatly landed in the back seat of the speeder.

 

“Everything going alright?” Master Qui-Gon asked, glancing back and forth between Obi-Wan and Satine’s glaring faces.

 

“Fine, Master,” Obi-Wan gritted out.

 

Master Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow but let it go. “By the way, did you remember to grab the padd with the Council’s contact information?”

 

Obi-Wan’s stomach dropped.

 

0o0o0

 

Obi-Wan had originally thought wearing the same armor as the clones would be a great idea. After all, he’d fought both with and against Mandalorians in beskar’gam, what the clone armor was based on, and he knew how effective it was. He just hadn’t realized how constricting it would feel, especially the helmet.

 

Like all Jedi, Obi-Wan was used to reacting to warnings from the Force rather than his more mundane senses, which why they always looked like the knew things ahead of time - they actually did as long as they were connected to the Force. The helmet’s display, on the other hand, relied on its sensors, which meant that by the time it appeared, the information was mostly obsolete. It simply couldn’t keep up with the Force, and trying to compare the two was like putting an old hydrocarbon based engine against a hyperdrive. There was no competition.

 

That was why, for the third time that day, Obi-Wan was fiddling with his helmet, trying to figure out a way to completely remove the display without destroying the helmet. It wasn’t going very well.

 

An alarm began to blare throughout the transport.

 

Obi-Wan stared at the mess of his helmet, tools, wires, and various other mechanical innards scattered over his desk, and decided to forget about the helmet. If anything made it through his defences then he probably deserved it.

 

0o0o0

 

One time he lost his lightsaber in the sands of Tatooine, but that’s another story.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan should not be trusted to make his own tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed this from 5 chapters to 3 because two of them were really angsty, and I'm not in the right frame of mind to write that.

Once everyone in the creche was five years old - or the developmental equivalent for their species - the minders would allow them to pick out their own meals from the commissary for lunch. It was a much anticipated occasion among younglings, and the day had finally come for Obi-Wan’s creche to do so.

 

The minder was more frazzled than usual, trying to corral younglings who were bouncing off the walls - sometimes literally. There didn’t seem to be a consensus on which dish to eat, but the majority had agreed upon the decision to eat as much dessert as possible. They were serving sweet rice balls today, so there would be enough for everyone to eat their fill.

 

As expected, the commissary descended into chaos as soon as the younglings were unleashed. Such was the sheer madness that the minder didn’t even realize that something had gone wrong until Obi-Wan spat his drink out onto the table.

 

All that was left in his cup was the dregs of a bitter tea that the Masters favored.

 

0o0o0

 

Obi-Wan fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve as he waited outside Master Yoda’s door. He had some idea of why Master Yoda had summoned him - it had only been a few months since the rocky start to his apprenticeship with Master Qui-Gon - but that didn’t help settle the anxious flutter in his stomach.

 

Finally, the door slip open.

 

“Come in, young Kenobi.”

 

Not willing to leave Master Yoda waiting, Obi-Wan hurriedly stepped into the apartment.

 

“Sit, sit,” Master Yoda said, gesturing at a chair across from which he was seated. “Feel your nerves from halfway across the Temple, I could. Tea?”

 

Mouth dry, Obi-Wan nodded, and he tried to use the time Master Yoda took to prepare the tea to calm his nerves. After the tea was done steeping, Master Yoda hobbled back to the table, two teacups and a sugar dish hovering behind him.

 

“When my age, you reach, use the Force frivolously, you can,” Master Yoda confided when he noticed Obi-Wan’s stare.

 

Obi-Wan ducked his head, his cheeks warm, as he grabbed the tea cup that floated over to him. He then stirred several spoonfuls of sugar into it, the memory of how bitter his first taste of tea surfacing in his mind. Master Yoda watched his preparations in silence, although his eyebrows were raised in judgement.

 

“Concerned about you, I am,” Master Yoda said when he was done.

 

His hands tightened around the hot tea cup. Master Yoda was worried about him, not Master Qui-Gon? Obi_Wan felt a little bit like he’d been punched in the stomach.

 

He took a sip of his tea to give himself a little time to come up with a response and almost gagged.

 

It was too sweet.

 

0o0o0

 

Obi-Wan had known that nights were cold in a desert, but knowing was light years away from experiencing. He was constantly shivering: through meditation, while he watched Luke’s presence in the Force, and especially when he tried to sleep. Eventually, it got to the point where he was too cold to even grieve when the sun went down. He broke the next day and scraped together enough of his funds to buy himself another blanket.

 

After so long alone in the wastes, the marketplace, with its yelling and haggling and its people - Force, the people - felt like an assault on his senses. Obi-Wan pulled the hood of his robe deeper over his face.

 

There was enough money leftover after he bought his blanket that he went browsing for spare parts in case his vaporator ever ran out. The mechanic’s place reminded him so much of Anakin that he almost wanted to cry. Instead, he abandoned that plan and decided to look for some tea. Anakin always hated tea.

 

He considered buying a blend shipped from Mandalore, but there were too many ghosts tied up in that planet, that culture, for him to ever be able to enjoy the tea. Obi-Wan was looking for tea to avoid his ghosts, so instead he chose a native blend, paying close attention to which plants went into it so that he could make some for himself later.

 

When he tried a cup that night, it was spicy enough that he could pretend that his tears were from the burning of his mouth.


End file.
